


In Sweet Respite

by Pelkie



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: (sort of), Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, First Time, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post Re:Mind, a bit italic heavy in places, post kh3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:09:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23004070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pelkie/pseuds/Pelkie
Summary: Sora fidgets with a sudden jittery energy, pressing his forehead into his shoulder with a huff.“Sora...?” Riku’s gut twists uncomfortably. Was this, too much? Was he too selfish? Did he take more than he was offered? He turns his head a little robotically, desperate to see his expression.[In which Riku gets inside his own head a little too much, Sora is (for the most part) shameless, and both navigate their newfound love.]
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	In Sweet Respite

**Author's Note:**

> Night is real. Night is not an absence of light, but in fact, it is daytime that is a brief respite from the looming darkness. -Guillermo del Toro

It’s been a long time for them both since the darkness has felt anything close to soothing. But on this night, the atmosphere is eerily still. It champions sleep, the thing that lead them back to one another. It’s also silent in that loud, insistent way that makes you take note of the absence of things. A pin might drop and Riku would hear. But he wouldn't care. Right now, the world could burn before him in one fell swoop, and he wouldn’t have the strength to bat an eyelid. Not when he’s like this, not when Sora’s lips are pressed against his in the (for once) peaceful blanket of the night.

And this is new, oh, so _new_. They’re cross-legged, knee to knee on his bed. The lights are off to save some of the hammering in their hearts. But they want to kiss. They want to kiss and it’s easy (If not inevitable) for them to do that- they love and trust each other, after all. Their hearts roar and stutter their own little symphony of delight and bashfulness together, but their bodies have no room for such sentiment. Not as starved of each other as they are.

Sora’s so close- his lips are velvet and moist, and his eyes, the mirrors of heaven have been closed so long now that Riku is beginning to miss them. But his eyelashes flutter sweetly across Riku’s cheeks every so often, and he sighs happily through his nose as his fingers knead his thighs. He curls his spine to answer Riku’s incessant tugs to pull him impossibly closer, so he can’t bring himself to be too broken up about it.

Sora tilts his head, licks up into his mouth, and Riku’s lips part immediately with a moan he barely recognizes from himself, ready to devour anything Sora is willing to give him. The amorous beast he’s stifled inside him rejoices at his meal. He’s still incredulous that this is even happening; still seems like a pipe dream, a whisper he would only ever hear in his phrenic prison. How many times had he been right here at this fantasy, torturously wishing that Sora would see him this way, touch him in a primordial sense?

Sora pulls back with a soft, wet sound, and his lips curl as Riku whimpers involuntarily. “Hush.” He murmurs, pecking at the corner of his mouth and nuzzling at his cheek to tide him over, just a little. Riku notices dizzily that its the side with those two sweet new beauty marks- and _how could he miss that_ , as often as he watches Sora’s face? He runs from the snarl of _a year, Riku, another wasted year_. Not now, _not now_ \- Sora is touching his face, saying something softly.

The room spins a little; now he’s on his back nestled between the sheets, Sora looming over him. His mind is still on the cusp of their separation...Straddling his pride that even the darkness can not stop him from noticing every part of Sora, and Sora clucks, like he can tell Riku can’t focus with him permeating his senses. He shifts briefly, and Riku makes a strangled sound in his throat, as he feels the press of a thigh between his legs. He’s already hard as a rock, since Sora first touched him. He can feel his face blaze, and his voice is meek, wondering if he crossed a boundary. "Ah. Sorry."

Sora’s eyes bore into his own, pupils so blown up in the moonlight peeking through the clouds that he can scarcely see the tiny ring of his irises. Lidded eyes track his face, and his tongue peaks out to wet his lips. His cheeks are dusted modestly, bringing out the lovely constellation of faint freckles from his chin to his cheekbones. He snatches Riku’s hand and threads their fingers together, and then he presses them between his own legs brazenly. _Look, we match_. Riku blinks repeatedly in a stupor, then he groans softly, and Sora giggles shyly, and they flutter into a chorus of chuckles that ignite the butterflies. He collapses on top of Riku with a little bit _too_ much nonchalance, and buries his face in the crook of Riku’s neck, the heat of it almost lost to his own sheepish glaze.

They lay still like that for a while. Riku closes the distance and curls his arms to rest snugly around Sora’s back, fingers stroking mindlessly in a way that has Sora purring contently, his breathing steady and deep. He almost falls asleep like that, just content, with whatever Sora wants to give him. This is already more than he ever dreamed, and its so _intoxicating_.

“Hey, Riku.” Sora whispers.

“Hm?” His voice is husky, like he really did doze for a while. Their noses brush languidly.

Sora fidgets with a sudden jittery energy, pressing his forehead into his shoulder with a huff.

“Sora...?” Riku’s gut twists uncomfortably. Was this, too much? Was he too selfish? Did he take more than he was offered? He turns his head a little robotically, desperate to see his expression.

Its half obscured by his bangs…They’re getting long at the front again, convenient for curling into his eyes at moments like this. Sora fiddles with the lapels of his jacket…bites his plump bottom lip and troubles it between his teeth…Despite himself, Riku feels himself enraptured with the display. Then his entire body jerks like he’s physically rejecting his own nervousness, and he scrambles forward, kissing at Riku’s throat, his jaw, soft like a whisper in spite of himself. “I want to…Can I try…?”

_What…?_ His mind sluggishly struggles to catch up, but Sora locks him in his gaze with his newfound resolve, kisses down his chest, his stomach, without his stare ever breaking, and- _Oh_ -? _Ohhh_. He thinks he might gasp. His face grows unforgivably feverish, and he imagines under different circumstances Sora might have made a quip about his impeccably accurate impression of a tomato. Sora pauses again, and peaks at him through his hair, his own cheeks blazing and his breath coming in hot little pants. He bites at Riku’s shirt, running a hand across his bare stomach, thumb pressing lightly into his bellybutton. “ _Can I_ , Riku?” He almost begs.

Riku throws an arm across his eyes and he groans, arching his hips. “Any…Anything you want to do to me, Sora.”

Sora’s face lights up way too sweetly for what he’s about to do. He moves gingerly but with a contagious undercurrent of anticipation, feeling him through the fabric, just cupping him experimentally and marvelling at his _warmth_ and how _solid_ he is, the way Riku keens and his legs slide on the bed with so little stimulation. He nuzzles between his legs with a serene smile. He feels a little silly now, for being so nervous, forgetting just who it was underneath him. This was his _Riku_ , his best friend, the answer to his life-force, the culmination of his everything. He had nothing to hide. His heart wanted nothing between them, ever. As he remembers this, the drumming of his chest calms a little. He tugs at his belt, pulls his zipper down and with little more fanfare, moulds his fingers to Riku’s hips and pulls his underwear down so that Riku springs up thick, free, and deliciously eagerly.

The cool air against his hot flesh is both heavenly and torturous, and he peeks out from under his arm, eyes shining wet with the suffocating ache of his love for Sora trying to eat him from the inside out. Sora’s eyes are bottomless and endlessly warm as he whispers lovingly, “Is this okay?” and the blindingly bright grin he receives as he nods makes him throw his head back and laugh a little, a few tears finally escaping.

Sora takes his time, massages him with both hands, flattens his tongue and licks a line up his girth, a little blown away at how impossibly good it feels just to be responsible for the guttural noises tumbling from Riku’s mouth. He wraps his lips around the tip of his cock, and sucks, stroking him with his tongue.

“ _Oh._ ” Riku whimpers and writhes, his fingers tangling in Sora’s tresses. He has just enough mental fortitude left not to rip his scalp out, but its all he can do to lay at his mercy and sob, “Sora, _Sora_ … **_Sora_**.”. He changes up the speed then, taking him in with a wet, eager sound and Riku lets out a yelp somewhere between a growl of relief and a wail. His tongue runs along Riku’s cock curiously like he’s trying to memorize the texture as he bobs. At the same time, he moves like he knows exactly what will feel good to Riku, like it’s second nature to him. And Sora's heart made him a good lover, made him know what to do, and how to make Riku's toes curl. His empathic nature spilled over into every fibre of his being, and every delicate touch. Later, when there was room for anything but _ohgodsorathisfeelsogoodIloveyousomuchsorasorasora_ , Riku would marvel at how Sora managed a feat like that on his first time. And this is far too sweet; the wholesome reality of the two of them next to the dissipating mirage he'd conjured up once upon a dream. Fleeting now, next to the feeling of the _real_ Sora, bobbing up and down on his cock like he was candy.

And oh, how he’d dwelled on the shame of his lust, sweaty and bitter and so sure this could never be requited as he continued to pine desperately in the after pallor of his guilt. Now he all but thrashes as Sora’s thumbs press at his hips, his heels scraping against the blankets. His hair fans out like a messy halo around his face; he probably looks a mess; his expression is probably weird, but he doesn’t _care_. He _wants_ to respond. _wants_ to let Sora know he’s doing a good job. It might have been mortifying on some level, but he was beyond that now. Riku’s desire to worship and praise Sora had always outweighed his own shortcomings.

He’s ready, he’s _so ready_ to come undone, and so crestfallen that he’s burnt through this clump of paradise he’s been blessed with so quickly he could almost blink. Sora’s whole body undulates with the rhythm he’s set, and it’s so frustrating to stop him, as he sighs and licks around him with his own visible pleasure, but he tugs urgently at his hair and urges him to pull off. He does so almost with a sad look on his face, but he continues to pump Riku with his hand, breathing through his mouth and betraying the excited beating of his own heart. Riku’s thighs tremble, and as they lock eyes, Sora leans into the palm of his hand, and he comes, and comes.

Sora strokes him between his legs and his thighs gently, waiting for him to come back to him patiently, and murmuring soft praises. “That was amazing Riku. You’re so wonderful.” When Riku finally looks down, Sora grins a smug smile at him, but also wrinkles his nose and wipes his hand against the blanket.  
  
Riku scrunches his nose too. “Gross.”

“Well, what else was I supposed to do?” He shimmies backwards to sit up on his knees between Riku’s spread legs, and tugs his (actually, Riku’s) shirt off in one fell swoop then proceeds to wipe the rest of the cum off of Riku’s stomach and his hands. Riku makes a face like he’s been double-crossed, but makes a mental note that they’re going to have to do some laundry real quick and make sure no one else sees it. It’s hard to stay mad at Sora in all his casual glory. He sits back on his heels with an innocent smile like he wasn’t displaying his rippling muscles, delicious when paired with his petite-ness and his curves, and like he hadn’t been making lewd noises between his legs just moments ago.

He sits up a little boneless-ly with a sigh, and then takes it upon himself to help Sora with the rest of clean-up, before tossing the black night-shirt into some unassuming corner of the room. There’s a little lull of incredulous silence, before Riku breaks it, extending his arms. “c’mere.” It’s hard to feel too awkward about someone whose seen you through every conceivable phase of your life. Really, he just wants a cuddle. Sora shuffles eagerly into his lap, like a shameless puppy, and the butterflies continue to churn.

Sora presses his forehead to Riku’s, kissing each eyelid, and the tip of his nose. When he guides Riku’s lips back to his, there’s no resistance. He wriggles a little less than surreptitiously, and Riku grips roughly at his hips and pushes them down at the same time as he raises his own, Sora’s spine arching as he rubs against his thigh. “Ah, Ri-ku,”

“Uh-huh?” He laughs through his nose, nipping at the crook of his neck. Sora unfolds like a flower, curving to his whims like clay and answering his touch like he was dancing (and he might as well have been).

“ _Please_.” He bites his lip, pulling back to press their foreheads together and ask with his eyes. Riku was not good at saying no to Sora, and why should he be? Sora could have anything he wanted. _Everything is for Sora_.

“Of course.” He rubs a thumb across his beauty marks gently, and Sora bunts his head at the contact, always answering Riku, always alive and electric under his touch.

He brushes his fingers up his bare back lightly, and Sora sits up a little straighter, his eyes tracking across Riku’s thoughtfully. “Hey,” He tugs at Riku’s shirt. “Take this off?” He obliges, grabbing at his collar and tugging it off with one fluid motion. Sora watches, a little slack-jawed, and Riku would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little more than good at the attention.  
  
“Now we match.” Sora’s fingers brush across his chest, so lightly it tickles. His thumb traces that scar on his side. It’s a keloid; raised and still an aggressive mixture of pink and grey from where he’d foolishly taken a hit for Sora. He can identify every scar of Riku’s like that, and it takes him from the moment for a moment, his lips tugging into a from.

“S’okay Sora…I…I love you.” He murmurs in answer. Sora’s heard those words from him before, but Riku still stutters over them, and he’s still blinded for a moment by the glossiness of his own tears. They embrace, skin to skin. It’s a euphoric mixture of warm, and hard. They’re too battle-hardened to have soft, jiggly hugs like when they were small. It’s all callouses and old wounds now, but there’s nothing better than that. Nothing better than knowing that Riku was here- _really here_ and _okay_ \- in his arms.

“I love you too Riku. I love you so much.” He almost chokes at how tightly Riku holds him, but he squeezes him back. It’s nearly too much. It’s simultaneously never enough. He needs more of Riku, and his body is hot. He’s aching, and he’s not sure how much more he can handle.

“Riku,” he breathes needily, the same ‘make it better' tone he used for scraped knees and laced fingers. Riku grabs for him, and he sucks in a tight breath. With Sora on his lap, he’s a perfect height for Riku to suck his pert little tan nipples into his mouth and suck. Sora rocks shamelessly into Riku’s hand, rolls his head and muffles his moans by biting at his lips. “Riku, _Riku_ , that feels so good.” Despite everything, he’s surprisingly quieter than Riku. His body is more expressive (he just can’t stop, _moving_ ), but his sounds are more sighs, and more coherent words of love and encouragement. He’s well-past his initial inhibitions, nothing but insatiable and affectionate to the nines. _Riku, Riku, Riku_ \- he thinks, and wonders how much of the mantra actually makes it past his lips.

Riku pauses. Sora’s head rolls back down to watch him, and he looks so put out by the absence of Riku’s touch, still breathing through flushed lips. “Why’d you stop?”

“You’re so beautiful.”

He laughs shyly, and Riku’s face splits into a disgustingly fond grin at his squinty eyes. “Coming from you? You’re perfect.” Riku lunges forward playfully, tackling him against the bed to Kiss him within an inch of his life. Their teeth clash a little painfully as Sora tugs insistently at the rest of Riku’s clothing. They pause long enough for Riku to shimmy out of his bottoms, and tug Sora’s boxers away before he plops down heavily between Sora’s legs, and the chorus of groans begins again, moving against each other mindlessly. Riku bites at Sora’s jaw, leaves marks on his throat and collarbones, and Sora’s hand come down to squeeze Riku’s ass, digging his heels in and jutting his hips off the bed.

“Please Riku, _please_ ,” Sora hisses, nails carving into the flesh on his back and his hipbone.

“Please what, Sora?” he whispers back mirthfully, “I'm not a mind reader, you have to tell me.”

His breath and his lips tickle at the shell of his ear, and he almost barks out an ironic laugh. That's just the _thing_ though, _he may as well be_ , Sora thinks. He's connected to him irrevocably enough as it is. He knows him like he knows his own body, and he damn well knows exactly what Sora needs now.

As if to add insult to injury, Riku presses his weight down on him, flutters to press wet, open-mouthed kisses to his jaw and nip at his throat, and he can't even speak, can't even beg. He whimpers, pulling him closer and rutting upwards. Riku moans lowly in his throat, nibbling his earlobe between his teeth.

“Just...let me...j-just let...” he tears up in frustration, wriggling his hips, and Riku descends, cooing out an apology as he cradles him.

Riku reaches down between them to Sora's meat, hot and flush against their stomachs, and he almost looks raw with how red he is, and how he leaks, pre-cum smearing against his feverishly twitching skin. His pulse pounds violently in Riku's palm when he runs a thumb over the tip in apology. Sora cries out, pulling himself up onto his elbows, eyes glossy as he makes a noise that sounds like a cry for death as much as it does a hymn.

“Shh, you're okay.” Riku murmurs into Sora's desperate kisses, stroking at a steady pace now. His hands scrabble for purchase like he can absorb Riku if he tries hard enough, until trembling fingers wrap around Riku's cock (full of interest again to no surprise), and match his pace while he rocks into his fingers. He grunts, pressing their foreheads together, and Sora manages a smirk through his grimace.

It's a wonder he had lasted this long, but it's so much, _so much_ it almost _hurts_ , and then his body is taut and he jerks his head back in a silent scream while Riku watches possessively, fascinated at the contortions his own stomach does, and the avalanche of blood that pumps to his dick in response. It's like watching him return from flat lining, the way his body abruptly jerks and shudders uncontrollably, and his thighs shake as his hips twist off of the bed like he's been lashed. He's devastating in his beauty- the brightest angel of all. Riku's sure he could come from the sight alone.

“Fuck, Riku,” He rasps, panting as he cradles him weakly. Ohh, Riku wants that, he does. It's slick between them with Sora's cum, but it only makes it better, makes the feral side of him dominate his useless inhibitions as he humps away mindlessly.

Sora moans, fingers curling tightly in his hair. “Yeah, show me, Riku. Show me your love.” He presses his thighs together, slick, and tight, and inviting, and Riku pushes through them with a grunt, panting and fucking as Sora holds on for dear life. He's worked up and overstimulated, and he growls through this orgasm, bordering on a weep between pants. They hold each other so tightly their skin might fuse. The only purchase as they ride and ride out the dawn.

It's quiet for a long time after, besides the panting that eventually settles into soft breathing. Everything is sticky, and sweaty, and almost uncomfortably warm if not for their bareness in the cool room. Sora's pleased though; he can tell by the glazed, airy look on his face. He knows his own is split into something horribly fond, and his heart feels calm, sated. He needs a moment to bask in the glory of emotional fullness of it all. He leans down to kiss him, once, twice, maybe even a dozen times. He doesn't have to count anymore. There's as many kisses as he wants.

“Sora.” He mutters. It's his favourite word. A lullaby of its own.

“I'm here.” He answers softly. “With you.”

Their hearts continue to waltz.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man I had a field day with the italics here. I can hear the sirens already. I am forcibly removed from the buildin-
> 
> aushdy no but thanks for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> I actually started writing this pre- Re:Mind and then I realized it was pretty complimentary to how things panned out, so I just tweaked it a little bit to accomodate. (Oh but god a year? I'm so sorry Nomura does this to you Riku). Most of my thoughts about how these two need some time alone to be soft and adress their needs for affection have remained the same. Let them just be together and safe and not terrified of separation ):
> 
> Till next time!


End file.
